


The Prince

by panda_shi



Series: Chronicles of the Royal Magnum Dong [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambitious But Rubbish, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Big Dongs, Cute, Dating, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Matchmaking, Post-Naruto Time Skip | Naruto Shippuden, Sweet, Why Did I Write This?, Yamato | Tenzou is a beast, Yamato | Tenzou is thicc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_shi/pseuds/panda_shi
Summary: Tenzou has a hopeless crush that he can't do anything about because he's afraid he'll end up sending said crush to the emergency room. Because of his big dong. Except Kakashi puts him on the spot and now here he is, trying to think up of excuses why fucking his crush would be a bad idea. And fails.
Relationships: Umino Iruka/Yamato | Tenzou
Series: Chronicles of the Royal Magnum Dong [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071551
Comments: 16
Kudos: 77





	The Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Self beta'd.
> 
> Inspired by an image shared at the Discord: Tenzou's Cabin. The things this channel makes you think of in the best ways.

Tenzou knows he’s freaking out because he has the sudden urge to suddenly go take a shit when hasn’t eaten all day. Or maybe it’s a fart. It’s a little hard to tell at this point. Especially when his insides are busy knotting themselves to complicated shibari knots, that is pulling at the entirety of his digestive tract, squeezing his liver, his kidneys – gods, he wants to pee, too – leaving his spleen on the verge of rupturing like a balloon being squeezed.

Tenzou isn’t sure how long he can keep sitting there, keeping control of all his faculties, clenching his ass and trying to be stone.

He hasn’t even touched his favorite pineapple-slushie. Which is sad because it’s no longer slushie but just very watery pineapple juice at this point. He paid good money for it too. Stood in queue at the snack counter early just to get it. And now he hasn’t even taken a sip of it!

All because in the middle of the, comfortable, air conditioned, dark movie theater, his gorgeous date is holding his hand and tracing little, gentle circles on the palm of Tenzou’s had. Tenzou doesn’t know if Iruka knows that tracing one’s hand this way is a silent sign that they’re down to fuck. Tenzou knows this. Everyone knows this. It’s been made popular by that new television series that is a global hit, Crashing Stars!

Not that Tenzou is objecting to fucking Iruka.

Not at all.

In fact, he wants to fuck Iruka. Readily! Enthusiastically!

He wants to fuck Iruka, so, _so_ bad, he’s pretty sure his own balls have permanently turned blue and into stone with just how desperate he wants to bend the lovely teacher over and have his way with his illegally attractive body. And face. And, well, everything, if Tenzou is being honest.

He isn’t even sure how this all happened except Kakashi had one fine day, pushed Tenzou (or well, clapped him in the shoulder so hard that Tenzou almost toppled over by Iruka’s feet, having been caught completely off-guard) in Iruka’s direction at Naruto’s wedding reception, formally introduced them to each other, and then casually, _glibly_ said, _go out with each other_. And then left them there standing like a bunch of statues unsure of what to say to the other after that kind of bomb from the Hokage and his piss poor attempt at being a matchmaker.

Tenzou had purged that embarrassing first meeting from his thoughts like one would after eating bad fish, for he had been so embarrassed, so unprepared to be shoved at the lovely father of the groom, that he had mostly bumbled and stammered through small talk; if there is one thing that Tenzou absolutely abhors, it’s small talk.

But for Iruka?

Tenzou would endure _all_ the small talks. Including those ridiculous conversations about the weather.

In fact, he had done just that with Iruka.

They spoke at length at how lucky Naruto and Hinata were to have their wedding on such a beautiful day, and that it will surely be memorable given that the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, that truly, a spring wedding is the way to go. Konoha is the most beautiful during spring, after all.

If Tenzou is being honest, he endured that conversation by simply nodding and staring at Iruka’s mouth while simultaneously thinking of ways to chop off Kakashi’s balls with a mokuton hand, Hokage or not. Tenzou did not appreciate being put on the spot. He did not appreciate Kakashi taking advantage of his starry-eyedness at just how lovely Iruka had looked that day, how wondrously happy he had been, where his dimples had dotted his cheeks the entire day, even when Iruka had been wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. A happy Iruka – a _truly_ happy Iruka – is a sight to behold and Tenzou, well, he had been bewitched from the moment he stepped into the wedding venue. Tenzou had grown progressively hopeless over his developing crush on Iruka, which had mostly started one rainy afternoon during Naruto’s training, where Iruka had invited him along for a bowl of ramen, all while listening attentively to Naruto explain in great, exaggerated detail, how difficult but exciting his training is.

There had been run-ins here and there. A casual hello, a wave from across the street, a few instances where Tenzou had run into Iruka over common colleagues’ birthdays or engagements. Konoha may be big but the world is a lot smaller, apparently, when you’re trying to squish down an unreasonable flare of attraction for someone.

It would seem that every incident following that single ramen dinner where Tenzou had noticed how ridiculously cute Iruka is when he is enjoying himself, how happy he is to be within Naruto’s orbit, how his polite and proper persona shifts to something more down to earth, more real and so personable, seems to challenge Tenzou and his attraction towards Iruka.

Doesn’t help that Iruka is a bit of a little shit. Tenzou has seen (from very, _very_ far away), just what a troublemaker Iruka is. There had been that one engagement party where Tenzou had seen Iruka win two drinking games, sing and perform a song with the bride, and had gotten the crowd roped in for a game of musical chairs (adults who had been more than happy to play the game; Tenzou had watched them fall and roll off the chairs from a _very_ safe distance). All this because Iruka had been _tipsy_. Not drunk. _Tipsy_. With his friends. And the bride-to-be.

(What adult plays musical chairs?!)

Iruka is a firecracker.

And no doubt an absolute nightmare if he chooses to be.

He had so much personality that over the years, as Tenzou hears stories left and right, as he sometimes watches Iruka argue back unabashedly with the Rokudaime, and saying things like, _please stop being a difficult ass immediately, Rokudaime-sama and let me have my approved graduating student list at once; it’s beena week._ Or that one time when he had said, _I refuse to be represented by a tardy Hokage. Please remedy your behavior at once. The Academy thanks you for your continuous effort and consideration for our budget_. Or that one time where Iruka had been so unimpressed with Kakashi’s impossible pile of paperwork on the table that having a meeting about the Academy’s upcoming budget review had been impossible without Iruka standing and looking _over_ the towering paperwork. Only to find Kakashi reading Icha Icha Tactics. Iruka had wrinkled his nose, dragged his chair _around_ the table and sat beside Kakashi, _glaring_ at his face after plucking his book away and proceeding to start the meeting much to Kakashi’s confused pout at having his book taken away.

As the Rokudaime’s official guard, Tenzou had to try very hard to stifle his laughter every time Iruka had _politely_ not taken any of Kakashi’s bullshit. He had watched Iruka wrinkle his nose is absolute disgust, his lips twist in a show of unsympathetic frown, and his arms cross across his nice, lean chest in utter blasé.

Any meeting that involves Iruka is the highlight of Tenzou’s day.

Kakashi found out of course. He had cornered Tenzou in an izakaya where their meal had costed Tenzou more than usual because Kakashi is a garbage senpai who fasts for the duration of his life until he finds Tenzou to feed him. Kakashi had poked him, prodded him, tortured him with his eyes, and Tenzou had folded in the form of flushing when all Kakashi had to do was say Iruka’s name.

Gods, he hates his nosy, stupid senpai sometimes.

It had been Kakashi’s personal mission to find a bigger cock slut than himself to match Tenzou with, ever since Tenzou had to drag Kakashi’s choking body to the emergency room at eleven in the evening, one fall, fifteen years ago when Kakashi had tried to suck Tenzou’s dick, overly enthusiastic by the length and girth of Tenzou’s meat that, half way through it, Tenzou forgot what was happening and pummeled through Kakashi’s face like he’s a man possessed and had a rotating machine installed in his spinal column. Kakashi had been so happy, eyes rolled back and drooling, the filthy asshole.

Until his vocal chords were compromised.

Kakashi would have laughed had it not been for the fact that he was choking.

Ever since that day, Tenzou had been on a strict _no-blowjobs_ rule.

(To be fair, he has been on a strict no-partners rule – including Kakashi himself - unless they’re just jerking each other off. If Tenzou can tear Kakashi’s vocal chords, he doesn’t want to imagine what he’d do to someone’s vagina or ass when he gets too excited. It sounds like a lot of work, measuring his excitement, that is. Tenzou can still hear the choking noises Kakashi made, shocked that he _is_ choking while trying not to wheeze from laughter at the hilarity of it all. Fucking jerk. Who laughs when injured?!)

Which is how Tenzou had found himself, that wedding day, talking about the weather and Iruka asking him if he’d like to join him for tea sometime at this rooftop café that has the most amazing view of Konoha’s river and forest tree-line.

Tenzou said yes then and continued to say yes every single time Iruka had asked him out.

Tea. Coffee. A play. A quick lunch and now this movie.

Each time, Tenzou had been given new fuel for his doing-Iruka-fantasy. He dreams of kissing Iruka, tracing the seams of his mouth with his tongue, undressing him out of that baggy uniform to reveal that tight, lean body underneath. He fantasizes about the look Iruka would wear on his face when he comes as Tenzou’s fingers strokes the length of his weighty man meat. He has lost count how many times he had to beat himself to completion (on his bed, on his couch, the administration building broom closet, once a random tree in the forest because he had seen Iruka re-do his ponytail from the Academy window after dismissing his class, and of course, the cold morning shower every freaking day). Tenzou had once masturbated in the river. He had been a little weirded out that fish had swam towards the swirl of semen like it’s food. He vowed, from that day, to never masturbate in the river ever again.

And now here he is, Iruka’s hand so very warm, so very soft in Tenzou’s palm, tracing gentle circles on the underside of Tenzou’s wrist while Tenzou’s treacherous sex pistol decides to make itself known how ignored it has been for many, _many_ years by rising to the occasion. Literally. Tenzou is hopelessly hard through out the entirety of the movie that he cannot seem to focus on, except that there had been a dog who was killed and now the main guy is going on a rampage on some mafia ring.

Tenzou wants to throw Iruka’s hand to other end of the room and scuttle away like a frightened cockroach.

While wanting nothing more than have Iruka wrap those wonderfully strong fingers of his around his raging boner.

It takes all of Tenzou’s concentration, field experience, training and power to remain still in his seat, even when somewhere towards the third act of the movie, Iruka’s hand found an even more comfortable perch on Tenzou’s knee, where he proceeds to gently rub said knee, sending jolts of lightning right through Tenzou’s raging hard on, where Iruka then continues to drum gentle fingers over Tenzou’s inner thigh.

Tenzou wants to weep.

He wants to sob.

He spends the next thirty minutes thinking of every excuse in the book on just why he can’t date Iruka and comes up with none. Not when Iruka is, honest to the gods, the best thing since sliced bread and instant coffee.

*

When the credits rolls, Tenzou immediately stands, blurts out an excuse to go to the bathroom and runs for his life to the safety of the cubicle. Where he proceeds to pull his pants down and _glare_ at the offending, annoying, bobbing ruddy tipped arousal to submission.

It doesn’t work.

Of course.

Sitting on the toilet seat lid and staring at his own towering jolting up like a goddamn meaty flagpole leaves Tenzou feeling miserable, his hands coming up to his face as he tries some meditative breathing.

Only to jolt on the toilet seat when Iruka gently knocks on the door and asks, “Yamato-san? Are you okay?”

Tenzou looks at the time and opens his mouth in a silent scream when he realizes he’s been in there for twenty minutes, before biting at his fist and oh so casually responding, “Yes, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“All right, I’ll be outside!” Iruka says. Gods, what a nice guy. So sweet. So caring. Always checking up on people. What a kind and beautiful soul. The best of the best. Ever so beautiful!

Tenzou accidentally farts.

The _ratatata_ sound of nervous gas elicits a few chuckles from whoever else happened to be in the bathroom, leaving Tenzou sitting there, his hard dong finally softening to something he can safely tuck back into his boxers, feeling humiliated and just about ready to throw Kakashi over a spit and roast him like a fucking animal for a feast. Then feed him to Konoha’s river bottom-feeders. Or something.

If Kakashi had just kept his fat mouth shut, Tenzou wouldn’t have to date Iruka at all.

*

Not that he hates dating Iruka.

Quite the contrary.

Tenzou _loves_ spending time with Iruka. He can sit and listen to Iruka talk all day, listening to so many stories about all his children in the Academy, about Naruto, about Sakura and Sasuke and their classroom drama back in the day. Hell, Iruka had stories about the infamous Rookie-nine themselves, information that are outright blackmail worthy. Tenzou had been absolutely _thrilled_ to even learn that a lot of the newer ANBU agents he works with actually passed by Iruka’s classroom at some point, that he now had dirt on them to use to his advantage.

Iruka is funny, entertaining and had a way with words.

Even if Iruka wasn’t talking, Tenzou can form art and poetry in his mind just by looking at Iruka’s lovely face. He loves the way Iruka’s nose would wrinkle just the tiniest bit before he bursts out laughing. He loves the way Iruka would rub the edge of his scar with a finger when he’s feeling sheepish, or how Iruka blushes easy, making the scar across the bridge of his nose turn almost white while the rest of his face ignites in bright crimson. He loves how Iruka takes no bullshit from anyone, how he remains uncowed no matter what rank, family or stature the person before him may carry.

Like how Iruka doesn’t question or mention just why Tenzou has spent twenty five minutes in the movie theater bathroom. Iruka had simply found a perch in one of the lounge chairs, eating the rest of his popcorn while watching families, couples and groups of friends mill about the busy place, lips relaxed to what Tenzou has learned is his public-smile. When he spots Tenzou though, Iruka stands, tossing the empty popcorn bucket into the trash as dimples dot his cheeks.

This smile is real. This smile reaches his eyes, making it explode alight with gold flecks, a thousand little suns in the depth of warm, pools of dark amber.

This is a smile that Iruka has been directing at Tenzou for a while now.

And as always, it leaves Tenzou’s knees incredibly weak.

“Can I walk you home?” Iruka offers, tilting his head to one side, looking so lovely in his dark denims and v-neck cotton shirt.

Tenzou would do anything to tug that shirt off him.

Except, he really shouldn’t.

No.

No way!

“Ah, Iruka-san, you don’t really have to—“

“I insist. I want to,” Iruka murmurs, reaching out to take Tenzou’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and tugging Tenzou out of the theater. “It’s a lovely evening for a walk, hmmm?”

Tenzou thinks any day is a lovely day when Iruka is by his side, holding his hand like this.

But because Iruka doesn’t need to know that, he simply hums and agrees, all the while looking at Iruka’s profile.

*

Maybe it had been a brilliant idea to fart at the movie theater bathroom, thank the heavens above. Because when they reach the outside of Tenzou’s apartment, Iruka looks up at Tenzou with a bit of a burn in his gaze that leaves Tenzou unable to breathe and his insides twisting and squeezing even harder.

“I had a lovely time tonight,” Iruka says, their lips inches apart with how Iruka is pretty much in Tenzou’s space.

 _I always have a lovely time when I’m with you_ , Tenzou _almost_ says. But because he’s not a complete loser when it comes to control, he manages to clear his throat despite the heat igniting over the tips of his ears. “Me too, Iruka-san.”

Iruka’s thumb gently caresses the knuckle of Tenzou’s index from where their finger remains laced together. It’s all the warning Tenzou gets before he’s closing his eyes when Iruka leans up and presses his lips to the corners of Tenzou’s mouth. Lingering. Soft. Gentle.

Iruka pulls back just a little bit, their gazes meeting before Tenzou’s affection and human touch starved brain decides to say fuck all and he leans forward, slanting their mouths together, tentative at first, until Iruka parts his mouth wide open, dragging Tenzou’s tongue in with his own.

For one blissful moment, Tenzou forgets his own reality as they stand there, under the door light, Iruka’s arms around Tenzou’s broader shoulders and Tenzou’s arms around Iruka’s middle, his hand gripping the knot of that ponytail as he maneuvers Iruka’s head to the side, just a little bit and he deepens the kiss. Tenzou could swear that he can hear sentient beings sing a song in the back of his head, where the world around him seems to be igniting in beaming rays of gold as he kisses Iruka’s soft lips, his ego boosting when he hears Iruka’s breath hitch when Tenzou’s arms tightens around his body, flushing their chests together, Iruka’s fingers carding through Tenzou’s short, cropped hair and gripping at the strands like Tenzou is the only buoy present in the turbulent sea of heat and passion.

They break apart panting, breathing hard.

“Would you like to come in for tea?” Tenzou blurts out before he can stop him. It is as if his dick has decided to take control of his mouth because Tenzou proceeds to lose his shit the moment the sentence forms, internally screaming and banging around the walls of his skull in panic because _no, no, you cannot come in for tea! You cannot come in at all! You can’t be with me because I am not going to be able to control myself when you kiss like that and sound like that, and fucking look like that, stop staring at me Umino Iruka, you stupidly, horribly, beautiful, sexy as fuck person—_

“I’d love to come in for tea,” Iruka _smirks_ , looking so devilishly beautiful that Tenzou can’t help but internally screech.

_Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkk!!!!_

*

And screech some more because the moment Tenzou turns the lock, Iruka boxes Tenzou against the door, hands planted firmly on either side of Tenzou’s head, his pretty little head tilted in invitation as Iruka proceeds to eye Tenzou like he’s a world class buffet spread. Tenzou remains frozen there, leaning against the door, his heat seeking moisture missile throbbing to life in his pants like a raging beast ready to be unleashed and wreak havoc upon Iruka’s gorgeous body. Something Tenzou tries to strangle with every ounce of his willpower and thinking of that one time where he had forgotten about his sweaty, moist boots in his travel pack – good gods, that smell still haunts him to this day.

But of course, it all fails when Iruka releases the bite he had on his lower lip, leans forward and kisses Tenzou again.

Tenzou isn’t able to stop himself, try as he might, as he continues to kiss the breath out of Iruka like how he’s been wanting to, frankly, for the past five years since he first met the guy during that one ramen dinner. Tenzou’s index finger loops around the knot keeping Iruka’s ponytail in place, tugging it free, relishing in how it slides past the silky locks that tumbles down Iruka shoulders like one of those shampoo commercials, releasing with it the heady scent of orange and cinnamon.

Tenzou hisses, taking an entire lungful of that scent that makes his knees soft, just as Iruka chews languidly at his bottom lip, fingers snaking under the collar of Tenzou’s t-shirt, caressing the soft hairs at the nape of Tenzou’s neck, just as Iruka’s other hand comes down to Tenzou’s chest, right over his sternum, caressing a hot line with his palm to Tenzou’s belt that Iruka begins to unbuckle, quick, easy, almost practiced.

Tenzou should have been paying more attention. He should have been more aware and not losing himself to the heat of Iruka’s mouth, standing there, incredibly turned out, making out at the genkan.

Until, that is, Iruka’s hands snakes past the waistband of Tenzou’s boxers, tugging it downwards and freeing the head of his cock.

It’s like getting doused by an ice bucket.

Tenzou rips his mouth of Iruka, curls in on himself, his hands defensively covering his nether regions, grasping his belt and denim trousers like it is a lifeline.

Except Iruka has his hands on Tenzou’s pants and boxers too. Iruka cocks an eyebrow and _tugs,_ lips turning into a devilishly beautiful grin.

Tenzou tugs back, trying to wrench Iruka’s grip free of his pants and boxers without ripping Iruka’s hands off his pants and boxers, thereby giving the wrong impression that he doesn’t want Iruka to touch him. Because nothing can be farther from the truth. Tenzou wants nothing more than to have those incredibly warm fingers wrap around his spam javelin and just touch him. Just touch his goddamn meat, for fuck’s sake.

“P-Please let go of my pants,” Tenzou _stammers,_ suddenly nervous, his blood roaring in his veins in a fight or flight rush of adrenaline.

“No,” Iruka firmly says, his grin going wider.

Oh gods, it turns Tenzou on even more.

Fuck. How is this even his life?

Why did it have to be Iruka? How can this ridiculous human being be so perfect?!

“Iruka-san, you really need to let go of my pants,” Tenzou wheezes, much to his horror, his reputation as being one of Konoha’s most formidable ANBU going right out the window because, well, that is Iruka’s power over his body and meat scepter.

“I am tired of masturbating to the image of your face and what I imagine to be is a glorious cock and great ass. You will let go your pants. You will let me pull your pants down. And I will have your cock in me one way or the other by tonight,” Iruka says, completely serious, determined, fucking fire in his eyes that makes him look so fatally attractive.

Tenzou is hyperaware of pre-cum sort of squirting pathetically out of his cock, dribbling and wetting the elastic line of his boxers. Good grief, it’s like being fucking thirteen again! He had better control than this. He is the Rokudaime’s right-hand man, the commander of ANBU for fuck’s sake, he is not afraid of a beautiful man demanding for his cock. He is turned on even more, sure, his blood on fire, his balls heavy, his cock hardening even more that it _hurts_ and oh gods, Iruka really needs to let go of his pants. But he is not afraid of Iruka. Not one bit!

Meekly, Tenzou shakes his head, tugs his pants upwards just as Iruka tugs it downwards.

“Iruka, you don’t understand,” Tenzou _gasps_ , clinging onto his pants for dear life.

“Now I know that is not the case because I can see you’re hard!” Iruka argues, quite tartly. “Let go!” They struggle, a tug of war promptly ensuing. “I will rip these off you!”

“Please don’t!” Tenzou counters, flushing furiously when his voice shamefully goes up an octave and more of his man-root is freed to the air.

“I know you want me!” Iruka hisses, _tugging_ downwards.

“I am not denying that, Iruka-san!” Tenzou _squeaks_.

“Then let go—“

A loud resounding _rip_ fills the room, throwing them both to silence.

Tenzou looks down in panic as all twelve-point-five inches of him gets freed in the air, his cock not even softening as horror plummets his stomach to the core of the earth. Iruka staggers backwards exactly two steps, watching as Tenzou’s denims and boxers awkwardly hangs by his legs and around his exposed hard cock and balls, Iruka’s mouth hanging open, his eyes as wide as saucers.

And there it is.

The shock.

Great.

The confusion too because Iruka blinks several times under the sensor activated light by the genkan, staring at Tenzou just standing there while he buries his face in his hands, his entire face as hot as burning coals. Tenzou can feel Iruka’s stare on his body, brushing over his skin, making Tenzou swallow as goosebumps breaks all over him, his heart racing faster, and his cock, if anything, twitching under the attention.

“Wow, Yamato-san, you sure are… _healthy_ …” Iruka manages to say, a touch breathless, flushed to the roots of his hair and unable to look away. Openly staring.

In fear. Maybe intimidated. Tenzou honestly cannot tell.

Healthy, Iruka had called him. When he honestly should have said, wow, you’re as big as a racing stallion! That is what Kakashi had called him.

Then again, Iruka is polite. At least he didn’t laugh out of shock the way Kakashi did all those years ago before he had gotten down on his knees and proceeded to take Tenzou’s cock down his throat with a salient leering look in his eye.

“Right, this isn’t going to work,” Tenzou _asphixiates_ , quickly gathering his ripped pants and pulling it all up to cover his modesty. Somehow. A little hard to do that when you have a hard monster meat in your groin.

Only to have Iruka’s gentle hands stop him, Iruka’s warmth pressing against his chest and his hands rub comforting circles all over Tenzou’s white knuckled palms. “No, no, no, wait, wait! Why wouldn’t it work?”

“Iruka-san, are you serious?” Tenzou gives Iruka a pointed look.

“Perfectly,” Iruka counters. “Why don’t you explain it to me? Let’s sit down and discuss this like proper adults, hmm?”

Tenzou grumbles under his breath, allowing himself to be lead to the couch, his meat skewer swaying in the air. It bobs lewdly when he sits down, something that Iruka eyes with keen interest before he follows Tenzou down on the sofa, straddling him and wrapping his arms around Tenzou’s neck, sexy and hot, all at the same time, giving Tenzou’s exposed cock a gentle roll of his denim clad hips. Tenzou has to suck a slow, shaky inhale at that, swallowing past the tight lump in his throat.

And then blurts out in one breath, “I once sent someone to the emergency room because I ripped their voice box when I was fucking their mouth.”

Iruka looks like he wants to balk and laugh at the same time. A sound leaves him, something that he stifles by covering his mouth with a hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s not funny,” Tenzou _groans_ , leaning his head back on the sofa’s backrest.

“It kind of is,” Iruka says, looking apologetic and then proceeds to burst out laughing, pressing his lips against Tenzou’s neck in a kiss.

“I am _not_ sending you to the emergency room, Iruka. No way.” Tenzou resolutely states.

“You won’t,” Iruka shrugs, and then wraps his hands around Tenzou’s throbbing champion. “It’s all about the angle, Yamato-san. That person probably didn’t know how to suck cock very well.”

Tenzou _almost_ says that the Rokudaime is hands down Konoha’s resident cockslut but manages to keep his lips sealed. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Then they just didn’t know how to handle a big boy like you,” Iruka _grins_. “Lucky for me, I’m willing to learn, Yamato-san. I am going to take my sweet, sweet time enjoying, every,” stroke. “inch,” stroke. “of your thick, long, cock. All. Night.”

Tenzou shudders at the words, biting his lower lip when Iruka slowly adjusts himself, sinking down to his knees, grin as wide as the sky, determination in his eyes as he presses his cheek against Tenzou’s cock, making eye contact before he turns and tentatively presses the tip of his tongue over a pulsating vein. Fuck. His dick is just a shy longer than Iruka’s pretty face. Tenzou nervously exhales a huff of laughter, watching powerlessly as Iruka proceeds to pepper kisses over the length of his organ grinder, all the strength leaving his body as Iruka wraps his lips around the thick, ruddy tip of his cock, his cheeks hollowing as he sinks barely over a quarter over Tenzou’s over all cock.

“Hmmm,” Iruka’s lips pops over the head of Tenzou’s swollen cock, the noise loud and lewd as he reaches for his back pocket, pulls out a spare hair tie and gathers his hair up in a ponytail. Tenzou watches as Iruka stares at his cock with hunger, looking ready for business.

“Iruka—“

“Shut up,” Iruka orders, _glaring_. “If it makes you feel better, you can pay for my chiropractor fees when I get my jaw re-aligned.”

“What?” Tenzou trembles, his eyes widening.

“Sit back and enjoy the ride,” Iruka resolutely says before he clamps down his mouth over Tenzou’s cock and Tenzou finally, finally realizes just how in love he truly is with Iruka.

*

Iruka makes it a personal challenge to take all of Tenzou’s man meat into his mouth but isn’t successful.

Thankfully, he doesn’t quite choke and when Tenzou begins to roll his hips into his mouth. Tenzou can’t fully let go though, too scared he’d have another accident. Back then, saying that it was a training accident hadn’t gone over too well with the medic because it must have taken a very special jutsu to rip Kakashi’s voice box like that, especially when there is no visible sign of trauma around his neck.

Tenzou will never forget the _shame_ he had felt in that moment, watching his senpai choke and make weird wheezing, horse-snorting like noises from the examination table, torn between pain and laughter, the insufferable asshole.

It had scarred Tenzou so bad that any sort of action had him holding back for dear life.

Iruka seems to sense it because he pulls back, lips red and swollen, a sheen of sweat on his temples and neck, flushed to his chest, and pinches Tenzou’s inner thigh. As hard as he can.

It makes Tenzou yelp, his ass jerking off a little bit on the sofa, his hands gripping the arm rests for dear life.

“Stop holding back,” Iruka growls, _glaring_. Completely unimpressed.

“I can’t do that!” Tenzou reasons.

“Why the hell not? Am I not sucking you well enough?” Iruka _frowns_.

“No, no, that’s not it at all! You’re incredible! Gods, you feel so good—“ Tenzou clamps his mouth shut, flushing to the roots of his hair at the filth that is spilling out of his mouth.

It does seem to pacify Iruka’s bruised ego a little bit, especially when he’s been pumping his mouth around the length of Tenzou’s monster for the past ten minutes. He’s even managed to take in half the length of his flesh, mouth stretched wide and open. “Then why are you not relaxing?”

“Because you feel so incredibly good I am terrified I’ll send you the emergency room.” Tenzou sighs, rubbing his temples and gods, why won’t his dick just stop being hard already?

“You’re actually serious,” Iruka says, one hand coming up to splay on his own, saliva and pre-cum slick chest.

“I am,” Tenzou mutters, ashamed, frustrated, embarrassed. He watches helplessly as tip of his cock spurts a little bit of pre-cum, the fucking selfish asshole of a monster-meat.

“That is so incredibly sweet, I can’t believe it,” Iruka says, his words soft.

“I really want you, Iruka,” Tenzou murmurs, _sighing_ in defeat.

“You can fuck my ass,” Iruka offers.

“No,” Tenzou _wheezes_ , his cock twitching excitedly at those words, _no, no, shut up, no, go die in a fire,_ Tenzou internally yells at his ham bone.

“Please tell me that no is because you’re scared and not because you do not want to fuck me,” Iruka crosses his arms, unimpressed.

“How will it fit?” Tenzou squeaks, because really, how will it fucking fit anywhere and anyone?

“How will it not?” Iruka challenges, his lips _curling_ up just as he cocks an eyebrow in a challenge.

“Iruka…” Tenzou says, _helpless_. This is a bad idea. It’s such a horrible idea. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. The girth of his cock is inhumane, it’ll rip Iruka in half! Why couldn’t he be born with something that isn’t a destroyer?

Iruka stands, and very slowly starts to strip out of his clothing. Tenzou watches as he bares inch after inch of beautiful skin, wrapped around lean muscle. Iruka goes as far as bending over when he pushes his pants down, exposing the curve of his ass to Tenzou who _groans_ because goddamn, if this isn’t sexiest thing he’s seen in ever. Iruka is gorgeous. He is a tall glass of water for a parched as the desert mouth that Tenzou suddenly seems to be in possession of.

Iruka steps out of his pants, kicking it aside under the coffee table.

“I hope you have a lot of lube,” Iruka

“I – I hope so too?” Tenzou sounds uncertain, nervous.

Gods, where did he even put the lube?

*

“Yamato-san, I am not made of glass,” Iruka says, rolling his eyes in exasperation, his chin pillowed on his wrist, ass arched into the air, knees on the bed as Tenzou carefully scissors his ass and preps him.

“If we’re going to do this, we are going to make sure that your body is prepared—“

“It’s been thirty minutes!” Iruka thumps his forehead down on the pillow, clearly frustrated.

“Iruka, if you don’t shut up and let me finish, you’re getting nothing,” Tenzou growls, and reaches forward with his other hand to give Iruka’s cock a gentle stroke.

Which Iruka bats away by slapping Tenzou’s wrist. “No! I’m already on edge as it is with your fingers alone! Stop adding to it!”

Tenzou huffs a short exhale, reaching out of the tube of lube, squirting a good amount on his thumb and pressing it forward, watching as Iruka’s back _arches_ even more, his head getting thrown back and gods, three fingers of Yamato doesn’t even match the girth of his cockhead. If Iruka is already keening at this, what the hell is he going to do when Tenzou begins to push in?

“Are you done yet?” Iruka asks, looking over his shoulder, flushed and looking utterly debauched.

“No,” Tenzou sighs, scissoring the tight ring of muscle, watching as Iruka forces his body to slowly relax.

A minute goes by, just as Iruka’s body stops fighting the intrusion when Iruka asks again, “Are you done now?”

“Iruka—“

“Oh my gods, Yamato, will you please just put your cock in me already?” Iruka _snaps_ , pushing his hips backwards and into more of Tenzou’s fingers, _groaning_ wantonly and making Tenzou sort of scramble backwards on the mattress, holding Iruka’s ass in place.

“Okay, okay! Just – Iruka, hold still!” Tenzou reasons.

“I’ve been holding still for the past forty minutes, are you fucking kidding me?” Iruka gripes, _glaring_.

“Fine, fine, okay, I’ll – I’ll put my cock in,” Tenzou answers, hopeless and losing the ends of his wits too.

He gently pulls his fingers out of Iruka, watching as Iruka scrambles off his stomach to lie on his back, grabbing one of Tenzou’s pillows and propping his lower back on it, legs spread wide and ready. He watches with a hunger that leaves Tenzou’s tent peg dribbling a mess of precum, something that squelches when Tenzou rubs lube all over the throbbing length that keeps twitching in his palm, ready to sink into Iruka’s tight body. Tenzou watches Iruka’s eyes glaze over, his lips parting as he watches Tenzou lubricate his love dart, Iruka’s breath coming out slow, measured, past bruised ruddy lips that he licks with excitement and maybe just a touch of apprehension.

Tenzou deems himself ready, or well, he doesn’t know what ready really means. But his cock is about as lubricated as it can get. He lowers himself to the mattress, one hand coming by Iruka’s side, the other positioning the head of his cock on Iruka’s ass, pushing just the tiniest bit.

And then he pushes in, exhaling through gritted teeth when Tenzou is met with mild resistance. He is distracted in his push because Iruka throws his head back, jaw slacking wide open as the head of Tenzou’s cock breaches the entrance, fully encased in what Tenzou thinks is the most incredible feeling of – he doesn’t know. There are no words to describe how it feels like to be in Iruka’s tight heat. Iruka seems to clamp down on him, noises ripping past his throat, as one hand grabs the sheets and the other holds on to Tenzou’s forearm.

Tenzou pushes a little more, managing to seat half himself into Iruka when reason and logic makes him shake his head because gods, where does he even go now? He can’t push further than this! No matter how much he wants to! He can’t risk ripping or damaging tissues just because his destroyer wants to pummel deeper, get into the warmest and softest parts of Iruka’s body.

“Are you okay?” Tenzou asks, panting, sweat trickling down his back.

“Yes – yes, oh gods, more – yes, I’m okay—“ Iruka breathlessly garbles, _moaning_ loudly that the sound of his pleasure bounces off the walls of Tenzou’s bedroom.

Tenzou wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard him.

Sucking in a calming breath, Tenzou pushes just a little more, getting another – what he thinks is – two inches into Iruka’s body. Iruka is shaking. His spread thighs are trembling like he’s going into a seizure.

That can’t be good.

“Iruka, gods, are you okay – can you—“ Tenzou decides no, hurting Iruka is not worth it. He pulls out, only to go incredibly still when Iruka sits up, supported by one hand on the mattress, his other hand snapping to the back of Tenzou’s head, gripping Tenzou by the hair, as Iruka _glares_ at him.

“Ask me if I’m okay one more time and I will beat you black and blue, Yamato! With my shoe! You take that cock of yours away from me and I will fucking murder you at this point! Do I make myself clear?” Iruka hisses, his lips brushing against Tenzou’s mouth.

“Yes,” Tenzou finds himself answering, unable to stop himself from kissing back when Iruka slants their mouths together and steals his breath away.

“Good boy.” Iruka pats his cheek, or slaps it, Tenzou can’t honestly tell the difference. “Now stop holding back and _fuck me_.”

Tenzou is good at following instructions.

He leans over, holds Iruka’s legs wide open by pushing his knees down to his stomach and then proceeds to push the rest of his cock into that warm, inviting body. He rolls his hips once, watching as Iruka _keens_ rather loudly, unashamedly at the ceiling, his cock twitching in Iruka’s body before he begins to snap his hips forward.

Tenzou sets the pace, every part of him shaking, as the room gets filled with Iruka’s loud, deafening cries of _yes, yes_ , and _oh gods, Yamato,_ and _harder, yes, like that_ , and words that make Tenzou’s ego rocket for the heavens with words like _, oh gods, I love your cock_ , and _give me all of your cock_ , and _Yamato you’re so good_ , and _Yamato you’re so big!_

Tenzou swears he’s having an out of body experience.

He pummels into Iruka’s wanting and pliant body, shaking and gritting his teeth, _growling_ deep in his throat when he all but picks up Iruka off the bed and holds him up by the globes of his ass, Iruka’s arms looping around his shoulders, his mouth wide open, loud cries getting punctuated by each thrust that Tenzou gives him. Tenzou brings Iruka’s body _down_ on his cock, slamming his weight downwards on his creamy hunter, watching as Iruka forgets the ability to loose words.

He yanks Iruka off his cock, flips over on the bed and then slams back right into his body, making Iruka _scream_ at the ceiling, his back arching, before Iruka is slamming backwards right into Tenzou’s cock, while Tenzou meets him half way, his balls slapping lewdly against Iruka’s ass and balls, too, his cock salaciously squelching into Iruka’s tight ass, lube turning white with the friction.

Tenzou comes with a ferocity he didn’t think was possible, seeing black spots when he grunts and pushes his cock all the way in, fully seated in Iruka’s body as the flood gates open and he’s coming, and coming, and just keep on coming, emptying himself into Iruka’s pliant body.

Iruka who remains on his stomach, unmoving, tremors wracking his frame until Tenzou pulls out, watching the cream pie of a mess that is Iruka’s ass, as copious amount of cum starts to dribble out like a river, thick and white, and gods, he came as if he hasn’t been masturbating for the past five years.

Except Iruka isn’t moving.

Iruka isn’t moving.

Oh shit.

Tenzou checks for bleeding and finds none. He then flips Iruka over, cradling his flushed face on the crook of his arm. There’s semen all over the bed, and all over Iruka’s chest, his jaw slacked into a relaxed line, almost a smile. Panic makes Tenzou set him down and hobble like a duck towards the kitchen sink for the first aid kit, his softening dick swinging left and right like a fucking pendulum, slapping on his thigh like the horse-cock that it is. He makes a mess, things falling out of his kitcghen sink cupboard as he finds the smelling salts and quickly makes his way back to the bed.

Cradling Iruka’s head in his arm, Tenzou uncaps the smelling salts and very carefully allows the transparent fumes to tickle Iruka’s nostrils. It takes a full minute but Iruka is suddenly snorting and jerking _away_ from it, rolling towards the bed, smearing cum all over Tenzou’s sheets as Tenzou _sighs_ with utter relief, capping the smelling salts once again.

“Oh gods,” Iruka says, lying on his back and laughing. A full bodied laugh. It's a good look on him. “ _Wow_.”

“Not funny, Iruka,” Tenzou grumps, putting the smelling salts on the night stand, his panic easing.

“I mean, I’ve never, _ever_ passed out from cock before, so this is a first and it’s _great_!” Iruka _grins_ , pushing himself up to a seating position with a wince, one semi-sticky hand coming up to cup Tenzou’s face. “Let’s fuck again.”

“You passed out!” Tenzou all but screeches. “Are you nuts?”

“I hope you know that I had no intention of letting you go after our second date. And now after this, I sure as hell am _not_ letting you go~” Iruka sing songs, laughing the entire time as he pushes Tenzou on the bed and pillows, crawling with a wince and straddling Tenzou’s legs.

“Thanks and flattering – what, really?”

“Really,” Iruka nods, peppering kisses down Tenzou’s jaw. “I really like you, Yamato-san.”

“Tenzou,” Tenzou blurts, correcting him.

“Tenzou?” Iruka blinks.

“It’s my real name,” Tenzou swallows, flushing to the roots of his hair.

Iruka’s smile at that moment is incandescent. “I really, _really_ like you, Tenzou.”

Tenzou swallows, not sure what to do with himself anymore. “Same.”

Iruka snorts a laugh, which devolves to a full on laugh that Tenzou cannot help but lean over and kiss that pretty little mouth of his.

*

“I should name it,” Iruka says, leaning on one side of his body because he can’t quite sit down properly after Tenzou had fucked him three times the previous night, all the way till dawn. “Something people won’t know of. Something not obvious, of course. So I can express freely when I want it and need it. Miss it.”

Tenzou _flushes_ to the roots of his hair, his fingers sort of shaking as he butters his toast. “Like what?”

“Hmm,” Iruka hums, looking deep in thought, taking a sip of his tea. “How about I just call it, The Prince.”

“Seriously?” Tenzou asks, looking up from his toast, bemused. He didn’t think Iruka would go with it. “It’s a little obvious.”

“Not if you tattle,” Iruka points his mug at Tenzou and then proceeds to take a sip from his cup.

“I’m surprised you didn’t call it The King,” Tenzou snorts. “What with how loud you were last night.”

“But you’re the king,” Iruka simply says, earnest, honest. “My king.”

And if that isn’t just the sweetest thing Tenzou has ever been called. He might just be in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay?????
> 
> Dick metaphors found in Pinterest. Some of them anyway.


End file.
